A Trade-Off
by MorganLeFay33
Summary: Ivy and O'Brien decide to help one another out. Probably one of the most awkward fics you will ever read - you're welcome :-)
1. Chapter 1

_This fic won't be too long. I started writing it a while ago, so I'd like to finish it and post it. I just really liked the idea of Ivy and O'Brien becoming friends and helping each other out. Plus, I was inspired by Siobhan Finneran's comment: "I think it's time O'Brien discovered a pair of false eyelashes and a bit of red lippy. That could be paired with a new frock"….anyway, some interesting things to come… :-)__  
_

_xoxo, _

_Morgana_

* * *

**A Trade-Off**

* * *

Ivy looked up from her book for a moment, unable to help but feel ashamed that her attention should be caught so quickly by such a bawdy conversation.

"What more could they want?" O'Brien snorted softly, "Someone to hang their wedding linens out the window for evidence?"

Thomas broke into a low laugh, shaking his head as he continued to write his letter. "You'd think a marriage was proof enough, but I suppose that like the bride, the rest of us can't swallow it either…"

O'Brien smirked impishly down into her sewing, shaking her head at his comment. It was lewd. That much Ivy knew.

"That's enough now, Mr. Barrow," Mrs. Hughes said sharply.

The Bateses flashed him disapproving scowls as they donned their coats to leave for the night.

Ivy went up to bed, feeling an uneasy emptiness inside of her. How could she be a woman of almost twenty-one, and yet not understand what she had just heard?

* * *

O'Brien answered the door in mild surprise. She did not move to invite Ivy in, simply narrowing her eyes and asking,

"Yes?"

"Miss O'Brien, I was wondering if I could…talk to you about something."

"Go on," she said, her stare still fixed.

"Can I…may I come in? You see, it's a bit of a…private…matter."

The older woman's eyebrows rose in curiosity and she wordlessly stood to the side, motioning for Ivy to enter.

The room was incredibly spacious and clean, no trace of stray objects, save for O'Brien's slippers peeking out from under the bed.

Once O'Brien had closed the door behind them, she simply stood there in the middle of the room, arms crossed and expression expectant.

"So?"

"Last night, when you and Mr. Barrow were talking about the Duke's recent marriage, you both were joking about…things…" Ivy could feel her face flushing deep red, and she suddenly couldn't remember the words she had rehearsed.

O'Brien did not speak, but simply watched the younger woman struggle to continue, looking almost as if she enjoyed it.

"Miss O'Brien, I'm not very good at asking things like this, but I think that if I were to get married some day, I wouldn't know everything that a woman should know on her wedding night, and I was hoping you could maybe explain …"

O'Brien finally spoke, a faintly taunting smile appearing in the corner of her mouth. "You don't know?"

Ivy nodded wordlessly, biting her lip. "Well, I know how it works, but I don't know…how…exactly…it happens."

O'Brien sighed and rolled her eyes. "Why don't you ask your mum? Mrs. Hughes? Anna? Why me? Really."

Ivy looked down at her feet and twisted her hands, feeling embarrassed beyond belief. "My mum, she…she won't tell me. Mrs. Hughes and Anna, well, you saw how they reacted. They wouldn't tell me anything I don't already know!" She realized that she was beginning to sound desperate, her pleading voice growing faster and higher.

"Bloody hell," O'Brien sighed, scratching her forehead in exasperation. "Fine. Meet me here after supper tonight, before you go to sleep. We'll talk then." She nodded curtly and opened the door again, motioning for Ivy to leave.

Ivy walked out quickly, failing to meet her eyes. O'Brien stopped her for a moment, tapping her shoulder so that the younger woman was forced to look up at her stern face. "You _are _aware that you'll be in my debt for this?"

Ivy nodded apprehensively, muttering a nervous "thank you" as she rushed back downstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

* * *

Ivy knocked gently, already regretting that she had arranged this meeting. She'd spent the entire day trying to avoid O'Brien. When the lady's maid answered the door, she simply looked the kitchen maid up and down with a smirk on her face and said,

"Very professional attire."

Realizing that she herself was the only one in her dressing gown, Ivy wanted to turn around and run. Instead, she nodded sheepishly and entered the room.

"Sit." O'Brien motioned to the chair in front of her and sat down on the edge of her bed, reveling in the younger woman's obvious discomfort at the whole situation.

"Two things:" the lady's maid jumped straight in, "First, if this has anything to do with my nephew, I don't want to hear it, and you can leave now."

"It doesn't," Ivy muttered, shaking her head to say no.

"Good. Second, you owe me something in return for this. I can't possibly imagine what someone like _you _could offer someone like _me_, but you'd best think about it. I'd rather do just about anything than have this discussion with you."

Ivy could already feel the heat crawling up into her reddening face, and she nodded in silence.

A thought suddenly occurred to Sarah. "Why can't you talk with Daisy?"

Ivy couldn't help but laugh sadly. "I think she hates me."

"Well, she's a bit dim anyway," O'Brien replied matter-of-factly. Ivy grinned slightly, entirely unable to tell whether O'Brien intended her words to be a kind gesture toward Ivy or an unkind comment about Daisy.

They sat together in silence, and Ivy finally realized that the older woman wouldn't talk unless she asked first.

"Well, you had said something about bed sheets…"

"Yes?" O'Brien stared at her coolly, waiting for more. She wasn't going to make this easy.

"Why…why would they be evidence of…?" She couldn't bring herself to finish, praying that the lady's maid would just answer her already.

"Blood." She said bluntly, as if it were the most obvious thing.

"What?" Ivy was shocked. "I didn't realize there would be blood! Does…does it hurt? Someone once told me it hurts the first time. If there's blood, it must…"

Sarah couldn't help but chuckle at the girl's obvious fear. "Sometimes, but it doesn't have to."

"What do you mean?" she asked in confusion.

In that moment, Sarah came to the realization that _this _is what Ivy did not understand – it wasn't exactly the mechanics, but the subtleties. She cleared her throat, despising the idea of having to describe such things to her out loud.

"If you're with a person who knows what they're doing, they'd ease you into it. Besides," she added in all seriousness, "all it takes to get there is a pair of hands, or a mouth…"

Ivy gripped her dressing gown in her lap, bunching it up beneath her tense and sweating hands as she waited for her to continue. When she didn't, the kitchen maid prompted her, "I don't know what you mean."

O'Brien's eyes glazed over for a moment, lost in deep thought before she sighed heavily once again. "Good God, have you never even kissed a lad?"

"I have! I have." Ivy finally had _some _sort of experience to volunteer, but she could already tell that she was just scraping the surface.

O'Brien leaned down and groaned, slowly starting to unlace her shoes. "I'll tell you a few of the basic…possibilities, Ivy, but it's not the kind of talk you're used to hearing. To start, there are thousands of ways you can kiss someone, and there are even more places _where_..."

* * *

After half an hour had passed, Ivy sat completely still, her mind reeling.

"Right. Any more questions?" O'Brien seemed completely unfazed by it all, as if she had simply taught a geography lesson. She stood up quickly and began to rummage around in her drawers for her nightgown and dressing gown.

"I do have one," Ivy replied shyly. "If you don't mind my asking, how…how do you know so much about this?

Suddenly, the older woman turned toward her with a stern face. "I do mind your asking."

"I'm sorry," Ivy rushed to say meekly as she got up to leave, but she was surprised when the lady's maid spoke softly.

"I've never been a married lady. I was never a virtuous, pretty girl like you, but I've had my fair share of experience there. Marriage isn't as easy to come by when you're me. I can't ever have that with the one I love." She grimaced and rolled her eyes, pointing at Ivy threateningly. "And if you tell _anyone _I've said that, I'll deny it and you'll wish you'd never set foot at Downton."

Ivy should have been more afraid of the threat, but she was still clinging to the other woman's words. "…the one you l_ove_? Miss O'Brien!" She stood up in girlish excitement. "You're in love?"

Sarah immediately regretted her words, stumbling in response, "No. That's not what I meant. I was just trying to say that in general... "

"You _are_! Oh, who is it?" Ivy cried, nearly jumping up and down. "I promise I won't tell. It's just so lovely! Is it Mr. Carson? Oh, no, wait! Mr. Molesley?"

Sarah burst into raucous, bitter laughter at Ivy's assumption, but the younger woman interrupted her once again before she could deny it.

"I've just had an idea – an idea of how I can repay you!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

Not knowing how to get herself out of this mess, Sarah stopped moving about and let her arms drop to her sides, ceasing her current search for her hairbrush. "Perhaps you should go to bed now."

Ivy, in all her innocent, youthful eagerness, ignored O'Brien's comment. "Miss O'Brien, do you trust me?" She asked with bright eyes and a hushed voice, expecting a yes to a question that was so often just a formality.

"No." Sarah stared her down stubbornly, hoping she would leave soon.

"Please? May I just explain? Oh, it would be brilliant! I could help you!"

"No."

"_Please_?"


	3. Chapter 3

_Some more cringe-worthy awkwardness, brought to you by me._

_xoxo,_

_Morgana_

* * *

**III**

* * *

Sarah wrinkled her nose at the smell of the perfume being spritzed on her.

"Disgusting," she said with a cough.

"It is not!" Ivy protested. "I didn't give you hardly any! Now…"

The blonde woman shuffled around in Sarah's wardrobe for a moment, finally pulling out one black dress and smiling in satisfaction. "This one is perfect."

Sarah laughed. "That's too old."

"How old?"

"I haven't worn that one since before I came to Downton. It'll be too tight."

"I'll be the judge of that. Now put it on."

The lady's maid groaned in objection but snatched it away anyway and began to pull it over her head. After she had it on, she motioned to her back impatiently. "Well, are you going to help me or not?"

Ivy ran to button the dress and nodded approvingly when the older woman turned around. Yes, it _was _tight, but only in a good way. It hugged her form in all of the right places, and for the first time, Ivy could see the curves of a woman's body. "It looks lovely, Miss O'Brien. I'd imagine that if you used to be smaller, as you say, it would have drowned you then!"

Before Sarah could protest, Ivy had her sitting in a chair beside the mirror. She didn't know why she had agreed to this. She should have been offended by the offer. She should have been insulted that a kitchen maid would claim to know more about these things than her. It felt stupid and silly, and she didn't have an ounce of trust in this young girl, but as much as she hated to admit it, part of her did wonder. She wondered what the reaction would be when those eyes beheld even the slightest change in her appearance.

"No!" Sarah put up her hand and blocked Ivy just before she had the chance to lay the powder puff upon her nose. "I'll not be painting my face like you. I'm not a whore."

Ivy giggled. "I've gotten better at it, you know. I promise I'll do it so well, no one will even notice it!"

"Believe me," Sarah chortled. "We all noticed it on_ you_."

"And do you today?" the kitchen maid replied indignantly. Seeing Sarah's stunned expression, she continued, "Told you! I'm good at it. I've been wearing it for weeks…just a little of it…and no one can even tell anymore!"

"Fine," Sarah grumbled. "Just get on with it then."

When Ivy had finished her work, Sarah turned around, preparing herself to observe a disaster in the mirror. As soon as she saw her own reflection, her breath hitched and she began to feel tears in the corners of her eyes.

She looked beautiful, really beautiful. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen this version of herself. By some magic, the younger woman had managed to return long-lost color to her face, to make her blue eyes shine dazzlingly, and to style her hair so that her usually severe curls fell in a soft twist around her face.

"Do you like it?"

Sarah sniffed, trying to hold back tears. "It's not terrible."

Noticing that the lady's maid's eyes were glowing with unshed tears, Ivy exclaimed, "Oh, Miss O'Brien, please don't cry!"

"I'm not cryi…I don't want your sympathy," Sarah muttered, carefully wiping her eyes.

Ivy surprised her with her flat reply. "I'm not being sympathetic. Your eyes and cheeks will run black and all my work will be ruined."

Sarah chuckled, blinking away the last of the tears. "Fine."

Ivy laid her hand gently on the older woman's shoulder. "Are you ready then?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Sarah responded brusquely.

As soon as they closed the door behind them to go down to breakfast, Sarah immediately turned around, shaking her head in panic. "No. I'm not doing this. This is ridiculous."

Ivy grabbed her before she could go back into her room and sternly spun her around with unexpected force. "Yes. You're going down there. You look really lovely today."

And together they marched down the stairs, heads held high.

* * *

No one noticed a thing at first. One by one, they descended groggily to their breakfasts, looking only down at their food. It was Molesley who was the first victim.

"Miss O'Brien, could you please pass the..."

As soon as he caught a glimpse of her, he grew silent with shock. His eyes almost involuntarily dropped down to her chest and crept back up again, his face growing red. He tried to speak, but as much as his lips moved, he could not make a sound.

"Yes?" she asked, annoyed.

"S-s-salt?" he finally managed to whisper.

As she moved to grab it, they all did a double take, realizing that Sarah O'Brien looked very different today.

Not a word was said about it, save for Anna. Thomas just smirked at her, Daisy looked terrified, and Alfred angrily punched Jimmy in the arm when he whispered something to him. The others simply gaped and Ivy maintained an air of obliviousness. Only Sarah could tell that the younger woman was absolutely delighted by it all. When the tension in the room grew to be too much, Anna said with a kind smile,

"You look very nice today, Miss O'Brien."

Sarah did not respond. She simply glared at her, finished her porridge, and left the table.

Minutes later, as Sarah headed back toward the kitchen to fetch her lady's breakfast tray, Mrs. Hughes decided to have a word with her to find out just what all this was about. She passed Mr. Carson as she marched down the hall and felt a mixture of amusement and irritation at the way he had paused to watch the other woman.

"You'd best put your eyes back in your head, Mr. Carson," she said in a singsong voice.

She chuckled as she saw him jump a little, clearing his throat guiltily as if that would disguise his unabashed staring. She managed to corner the lady's maid before she could reach the kitchen, stopping her in the darkened hallway near the stairs.

"You've changed your appearance." Mrs. Hughes said quietly.

Sarah glowered at her harshly. "Have I?"

They stood there for a moment, neither speaking. Mrs. Hughes did not know how to continue the conversation. There was no point in scolding or interrogating her, for she technically was not dressed inappropriately. Mrs. Hughes sighed as she walked away, wondering how long it would take the household to adjust to this absurd mischief.


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

* * *

As she clasped the tiny golden chain around Lady Grantham's neck, Sarah heard the countess say casually,

"O'Brien, have you changed your hair?"

Sarah looked up from her work and met the other woman's gaze in the mirror, feeling herself blush slightly. Lady Grantham was the only person in all of Downton who had not immediately reacted to Sarah's new appearance, and the lady's maid had been wondering whether she'd even noticed. The countess' clear blue eyes were filled with nothing but mild interest, and Sarah felt her throat constrict for a moment.

"Yes. Yes, m'Lady. I have."

Sarah needed to do something with her hands or else she knew she would simply continue to stand there like an imbecile. She grabbed the hairbrush from the table and began to run it through her lady's dark cascade of hair, trying to focus on the way it shined in the morning light. No matter how many kitchen maids fiddled with Sarah's hair, it would never come close to equating with the lovely chestnut locks she now held in her hands.

"It's very nice," the countess stated resolutely.

"Thank you, m'Lady," Sarah mumbled quietly, still looking down.

"But of course…" Cora caught herself, shifting around in her seat, "That's not to say I don't…I…I adore the other way you wear it as well. I think you're beautiful either way."

Sarah paused, her hands beginning to tremble. She tried to maintain her composure, for she couldn't believe her lady's words. She nervously looked into the mirror once more, seeing a sincere smile gracing her lady's face. In that moment, she saw the countess searching her eyes for a reaction, and Sarah realized. She was not the only one testing the waters today.

"You're very kind, m'Lady," Sarah replied hoarsely. She could barely speak.

"I'm not being kind. I'm being honest," her ladyship insisted. "I can't think of a lovelier face for me to see each morning when I rise for the day."

* * *

Ivy found O'Brien in the stairwell minutes later, fanning herself, eyes closed.

"Miss O'Brien?"

Sarah immediately moved away from the wall and motioned for Ivy to step aside so she could pass.

The younger woman jumped in front of her just in time, blocking her from leaving.

"What's happened?"

"Nothing," Sarah muttered softly, once again unsuccessfully trying to get by.

Ivy crossed her arms accusingly and giggled. "He's noticed. Whoever he is, he's noticed!"

The lady's maid finally managed to push the kitchen maid aside and walk back toward her bedroom, responding sharply, "Don't act smug, virgin."

* * *

"Have you met the Jekyll to O'Brien's Hyde today, Bates?" Lord Grantham asked with a jovial chuckle.

John fastened his lordship's cufflinks with a wry smile. "Indeed I have."

"Well, I was hoping for more than _that_," the earl replied in eager amusement. "You must know what the motivation was behind it."

"I honestly don't know, m'Lord."

"Well, it is certainly…"

"Terrifying, m'Lord?" Bates suggested with a gleam in his eye.

Robert laughed even harder. "Yes, certainly, but wouldn't you agree that she does actually look...well, like a woman? Goodness, I never thought I'd say that about O'Brien! You must be wary, Bates. Perhaps she has decided that she would like to steal you away from Anna."

The two men smirked at one another, and Bates replied quietly, "You needn't worry there."

"Yes, of course, Bates," Lord Grantham agreed with a wave of his hand. "Who knows why ladies do these things. It's surely a bit of frivolous fun."

* * *

After they had finished dinner, Molesley sat down beside O'Brien and turned toward her determinedly.

"Miss O'Brien…"

The lady's maid looked him up and down in boredom. "Yes, Mr. Molesley?"

He was suddenly shaking and perspiring, his words tumbling out awkwardly. "I…I was wondering if you m-might….if perhaps….you'd like to a-accompany me to the…the….the…."

She sat there in patient stillness as he continued to struggle with his question, her eyes entirely impassive.

Before he could finish speaking, she calmly stood up from the table, pushed her chair in, and headed back up the stairs.

He should have been upset that she'd left him dangling mid-sentence, but Joseph Molesley just exhaled a gigantic sigh of relief.


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

* * *

_One month later_

* * *

"Oh. You. What do you want?" Miss O'Brien seemed out of sorts, her skin flushed and her hair disheveled. Ivy had never seen her like this, and she averted her eyes, unable to understand why she suddenly felt so intrusive.

"I was just wondering if you were going to the fair tonight? With the others? We haven't talked in a while, and I just wanted to ask you…" she trailed off, lifting her eyes in meager hope.

"Well, what do you think?" the lady's maid asked sarcastically. "The entire household is there right now, and I'm stood here in the doorway to my bedroom in my dressing gown. I'm a bit under the weather tonight. Why are _you _still here?" She seemed bothered.

"I'm on my way now!" Ivy insisted. "I just…"

Sarah sighed. Now was most definitely not a good time. "Fine," she said loudly. "I'll give you five minutes." Sarah closed the door behind her, taking care to do so securely and to continue leaning on the handle.

"I'm sorry you're not feeling well. It's lucky that her Ladyship went to bed early though, isn't it?" Ivy tried to start off the conversation lightly, but the look in the older woman's eyes told her that she was not coming any closer to making peace.

"Yes. What do you want?" Sarah asked impatiently, patting down her hair and trying to tuck stray pieces into her plait.

"…I just was wondering…Why did you go back to dressing the way you did before? There's nothing wrong with it," she stuttered, "but I thought you had quite liked it, but did you not like…"

The lady's maid finally smiled a kind smile that Ivy recognized as reserved for a very lucky few. "Ivy, I did like it, but I've realized that I don't _need _it. I'm content without it. It's just not who I am."

The younger woman nodded in concession, appreciative of the honest response.

"Besides," Miss O'Brien grumbled with a low laugh, "It takes too bloody long for me to get dressed in the morning as it is, and I've got _another_ person to attend to as well in that regard."

Ivy grinned at her, satisfied to know that at least _she _hadn't been the reason for the lady's maid's sudden reversion to her old self.

"Anything else?" Miss O'Brien still seemed slightly uncomfortable and eager to return to her room, but Ivy needed to know.

"One more thing, just one more. I promise."

The older woman turned an ear back toward her, waiting expectantly while Ivy toyed with different ideas of how to ask the question.

"I haven't got all night…"

"The things we talked about, you and I..." Ivy whispered, "…can two women do them? With each other?"

The soft grin immediately dropped from Miss O'Brien's face, and she asked sharply, "Why do you ask?"

"No reason at all! I was just…curious."

The lady's maid stared at her coldly, looking her up and down as if searching her for weapons. "Why would you want to know a thing like that?" Her gaze began to flicker from side to side and she crossed her arms defensively.

Ivy stood in terrified silence.

"They can. You'd best hurry up and join the others now."

Before Ivy could comprehend what was happening, the door was slammed in her face, and she was left alone in the quiet hallway, wondering what on Earth she had done wrong.

* * *

As soon as Sarah saw them together, the fear lifted from her shoulders like a hot air balloon, and it took a moment for her anxiety to morph into affection and joy.

They were young, and they would surely get caught if they weren't more careful, but she chuckled inwardly, remembering that after all these years, she herself wasn't much different.

It was the simplest thing – Madge's hand laid gently on Ivy's upper arm, her thumb brushing determinedly over it, and the way the kitchen maid had turned her head toward Madge, beaming like Sarah had never seen her, and then the way they'd both blushed and broken apart to hastily continue with their work.

Just one week later, she watched out of the corner of her eye as Madge retired to her room for the night. She was not surprised when Ivy suddenly stood up and announced with rushed words, "I'm going to bed then," and ran after her.

Thomas smirked and remarked, "She's up to something, and we'd best find out what it is…"

Jimmy laughed, leaning back lazily to rest his head in his hands. "She is an odd one. One of these days, I swear I'll follow her, and then maybe I'll have some answers."

"You'll do no such thing." Sarah looked up from her sewing and shot him the most malevolent glare she could muster, and she could tell that it was not unsuccessful. Her abrupt words had surprised everyone in the room, and an awkward silence fell among the servants. From Jimmy's change in expression, she did not even think she would need to keep speaking.

"If you go mucking about anywhere near her, someone will have to suggest to Mr. Carson that he ask you the plot of the film you went to see last week. What was it again? Oh, right. You wouldn't know, would you?" His lying about his dodgy nighttime activities was only one of the many bits of information she had on him, and the footman knew it.

Jimmy began to tremble so slightly that only the lady's maid noticed, and she looked back down at her needle, hearing Alfred proclaim with a falsely assertive voice,

"Yeah! Leave her alone! You'll have to answer to me too."

Thomas chortled and made corny kissing noises, and most of the other servants laughed and playfully joined in as well. Alfred blushed beet red and repeatedly mumbled,

"Come off it, will you?"

The room returned to chaos, Sarah focused intently on her stitching once again, mentally making an addition to her list of secrets that she would fight to keep as long as she lived.

* * *

_That's all for this one! Hope it was to your liking. _

_xoxo_


End file.
